


Along the Way

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim’s only been gone for one minute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Along the Way

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Winterysomnium's DickTim Day on Tumblr.

Tim’s only been gone for one minute. There was a phone call from Lucius, a reminder about a meeting in the morning, and it was _just one minute_.

"What - "

"Try to take him away from me and I will bite you, Drake."

The worst part is that Tim knows Damian means every word of that. He's glaring at Tim, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Too bad then, that the effect is somewhat lessened by the tiny kitten cradled in his arms batting at his face. 

Tim turns to look at Dick who's been suspiciously quiet since Tim came back into the coffee shop. He's wiping the counter down with a terribly amused smile on his face.

"There's a sign and everything, you know," Dick says to the counter, still smiling. 

There is a sign, actually, on the sidewalk outside the shop. Done in familiar handwriting in different colored chalk and a drawing of a kitten along the bottom. Tim had regrettably made the mistake of thinking it was a joke because who in their right mind would give a child an espresso and a kitten? (Dick, apparently.)

"Here," Damian says, short, ill-mannered. "I have no need for this." 

Wordlessly Tim takes the espresso from him, ignoring Dick's huff of laughter. "Thanks, Damian," Tim mutters, watching as Damian takes the kitten to one of the corner tables.

"Matilda's kittens are old enough to be adopted out," Dick explains. 

Matilda is one of the strays that's been hanging around the back of the coffee shop, won over by little saucers of milk and food Dick's been leaving out for her. The last time Tim took Damian to the coffee shop the kittens had been little more than balls of fluff on wobbly legs, but even then he should have seen this coming. (Wonders why, then, he kept coming back dragging Damian behind him every time.)

Tim sighs, taking a seat at the counter. Shoots a halfhearted scowl at Dick, who is, as always, unaffected. 

"He's going to end up with a menagerie at this rate," Tim says, and reminds himself that this internship is worth having to deal with Damian and his habit of acquiring animals when left unattended for any amount of time. 

"You're exaggerating." Dick says, as though he isn't part of the problem. 

"Bruce gave him Titus," Tim says, eyebrow raised. "I still haven't heard the story about the cow, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to know, and now there's the kitten."

A little ball of black and white fluff and an indignant little mew.

Tim sighs, incipient headache taking shape right between his eyes because he has the horrible feeling it's not going to stop with the kitten. He can feel Dick's amusement at this, at _him_.

"You do this to make my life harder, don't you?" 

Tim doesn't have the heart to take the kitten away for the same reasons Bruce decided to give Titus to Damian, and Alfred allowed him to keep the cow. (Everyone knows who's in charge there.)

Damian's a horrible kid, really. Arrogant and rude, entitled as all hell. Gotham royalty and he knows it, the little brat, but.

He's still a ten year-old boy who’s been dropped into the ranks of Gotham's elite rich, slowly getting to know a father he's met only recently and no matter who it is in that position, it can't be easy. He does well enough in social situations that require him to look the part, when when it comes to everyday interactions - 

"I meant to ask," Dick says, leaning up against the counter. "What made you decide to bring him here?"

Tim started coming to the little coffee shop his freshman year of college, caught out in the rain after getting off the bus a block away. Pocket change and lint and weather so bad he'd been forced to take shelter the first place he could.

Overhead bells jingling a merry welcome and coffee and spices and Dick's, _“Whoa, what happened to you?”_

Dick tossing him clean towels from the back and hot coffee, _“On the house, you look like you need it,”_ and his _smile_. (It's been downhill ever since.)

Tim follows Dick's gaze to see Damian ducking his head the moment he realizes Tim's looking at him, near-permanent scowl on his face. 

He's been sneaking glances at the two of them under terrible pretenses. Holding the kitten close like he thinks Tim will try to take it away from him. Like he thinks Tim will do it as payback for all the things he does to make Tim's life miserable. 

As though Tim doesn't know how much Damian cares about his slowly growing menagerie, that he gets along with them far better than the people in his life at this point, his own father included. (That's changing, though. Bit by painful bit.)

“Desperation,” Tim answers, wry. “He was driving me crazy and I needed caffeine.”

That much is true, at least. There's more to it, but Dick's ego doesn't really need a boost right now. (If ever.) 

********

“Hey, isn't this mine?” Dick asks, coming out of the bathroom, towel around his neck. He's plucking at the sweatshirt Tim gave him to wear, blind grab from Tim's dresser.

Outside the rain's coming down hard, lightening streaking through the sky as the distant rumble of thunder follows after.

The sweatshirt's old, soft and worn. Lettering faded, gone altogether in places to make it nearly impossible to tell it's from Dick's alma mater. 

Tim holds out a mug of coffee. Not as good as what Dick makes at the shop, but still a step above the usual because Tim is serious about his coffee. (Too serious, some might say, but they're wrong.)

“Here,” Tim says, smile curving his lips. “You look like you could use it.”

Dick takes the coffee with a quiet thanks, eyebrows raised as he waits for Tim's answer.

“If you'd done the laundry,” Tim says, not willing to give him the satisfaction, “you wouldn't have to borrow my clothes.”

Somehow, Tim manages to keep a straight face when he says that, even though they are both perfectly aware that Tim is a stealer of sweatshirts. And other things, like Dick's favorite pen from the coffee shop, or a key-chain of his favorite sports team. (Little things that mean something.)

“I forgot,” Dick says, bumping Tim with his hip as he walks past. “I'll do it later today.”

Tim _hmms_ , thoughtful. Dick's not terrible at things like that, remembering to do the laundry or other chores, but.

“Missed you,” Dick says from his place on the couch. “It's been quiet.”

But sometimes Dick works a little harder than he should between the coffee shop and his strays and everything else in his life, and things like that slip past. (Tim has to wonder how Damian would react to Dick lumping him in there with Matilda and the other strays, winning him over with kindness and free treats.)

Tim's gotten fairly good at reminding Dick, but he's been gone for a few days. Accompanying Bruce and Lucius – and by extension Damian – on a business trip out of town. 

Somewhere in the apartment Matilda's last two kittens are wreaking havoc, Tim long resigned to the fact that they'll be staying. Somewhere in Gotham Bruce is trying to connect with Damian, taking him to the places he'd enjoyed as a child with Alfred's quiet support. Right here, right now, Dick is sitting on the couch smiling up at him, soft, familiar. (Loved.)

“All right,”Tim says, and lets Dick pull him down next to him on the couch to watch the play of lightning outside, Dick's solid warmth beside him. (Home.)

**Author's Note:**

> Dick's sign outside the coffee shop:
> 
>  [](http://tinypic.com?ref=zl6gbk)


End file.
